


It's a Supernatural Life

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1940's au, AU, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, It's a Wonderful Life, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-11 07:47:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8970223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and due to a series of unfortunate events, Dean Winchester is about to take his own life. Thus, the all-mighty Chuck must send an angel to save this righteous man, and a certain Angel of Thursday still doesn't have his wings...It's a perfect match."It's a Wonderful Life" Destiel AU





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, and it was basically born out of necessity. I'm feeling festive as hell and this is my favorite Christmas movie so wtf here goes nothing. I'm un-beta'd and tbh looking for one cause i'm pretty sure that even though I've re-read this 1,000 times it's still got mistakes and I kinda wish someone coulda been there to help with all the bumps in this road. Oh, well. If no one ever reads this I may never post the other chapters sooooo if you DO like this, PLEASE PLEASE comment/kudos and let me know!  
> I do not claim to own or have anything to do with "Supernatural" or any of it's characters, this is simply my take on them in an AU. I don't think I need to disclaim "It's a Wonderful Life", because its in the public domain, but I also don't own that. 4

_I owe everything to that boy, Dean Winchester. If you're out there, God, help him out tonight._

 

_Joseph, Jesus, Mary, hell! The whole damn manger, too! Help my boy, Dean._

 

_God help my son tonight._

 

_Dean never did think much 'bout himself, Father, That's what's got 'im in this mess in the first place._

 

_Deano, what a solid guy. Cut him slack, would ya, big man?_

 

_Dean means so much to me, means so much to my son. Help him tonight, God, I know something isn't right._

 

_Uncle Dean needs your help, Jesus, oh please help him!_

 

_God, I know you've done so much for me, but I just know something's wrong with my brother. I can sense it, or something. Please, don't let that big heart of his hurt him._

* * *

Chuck the good and powerful sat listening to the prayers of his most beloved creations. Sure, Chuck wasn't the best father. Usually, some would argue, he was the worst. But you could never say Chuck didn't care! At least, Chuck thought you couldn't. Look, He's trying, ok? Anyways. Chuck listened to the humans below him with pity, so much pain and suffering. He was practically desensitized to it, at this point. No, those weren't the prayers he was going to help with tonight. Tonight, he had something very special in mind. He was going to save one of these souls, but only a truly worthy soul. Or, rather, one of his angels would save them. Because, you know, Chuck's a busy God. So Chuck listened, and listened, and tried to pick out something different in all these pleas for help.

 

Among the selfish pleas for help, Chuck heard a deafening chant of "Dean Winchester". This, Chuck thought, was different. Dean wasn't praying to Chuck, oh no, but it seemed every person the guy have ever met was interceding on his behalf. Dean Winchester, mid-thirties, Caucasian, male. Here was a human in need. At 11:58 p.m., December 24th, in the year 1945, Dean stood on the bridge out of Bedford Falls, New York. Dean stood approximately 40 feet above the frigid water beneath the bridge, certainly a fall he could survive, unless, that is, he intended otherwise. And tonight, Dean certainly did not intend to survive. 

 

Dean _was_ in a bit of a pickle, Chuck decided, as he looked over the man's life. It seemed his business, as well as himself, and his uncle, were facing some serious trouble. Some money was lost, some people were angry. Not good. And there Dean was, willing to risk his own life to save everyone else. This seemed to be a theme in the guys life. Ok, so this is the guy, this guy is gonna be saved, Chuck could feel it. And he had the perfect angel for the job...

* * *

 

 

Gabriel had a few simple pleasure. Good company (a good fuck), good food (sweets), and good liquor (at least 80 proof). And a nice hammock. Plus, he's always been a brat about humidity so you gotta count temperature in there. And don't even get him started on finding the right fabric, you know, breathable, not too itchy. So, strike that, maybe Gabriel wasn't so simple. But he knew what he wanted, damn it! And that, mostly, was to go about his angelic life unbothered. 

                         

Ever since Gabriel had gotten his wings (first of Chuck's angels to do so, thank you very much), the angel had been allowed to wander Chuck's green earth doing practically anything he pleased. Chuck was kind of an absent father, but that didn't really bother Gabriel so much as long as he could continue chasing his whims. Sure, from time to time Chuck would feel insecure about some covenant or plague, and he'd call upon his most trusted archangel for a little advice. Gabriel was always more than happy to lend a helping hand, as long as Chuck kept it brief and infrequent, which, for the most part, he did. There was the whole "should he kill his son or shouldn't he" debacle with Abraham, but that was, just barely, resolved in time. So no big dealio if you asked Gabriel. 

 

Tonight was one of those times. Gabriel felt Chuck's heavenly tug at his grace, and lo and behold there stood Chuck, with a mischievous glint in his eye. Instantly, Gabriel was on board. 

 

"Hey there, daddy-o, how can I help your Godlieness tonight?" Gabriel mused as he sauntered towards his maker.

 

"Gabriel!" Chuck exclaimed, "Thank me! I'm glad your here! Look, I've been cooking up a miracle, nothing big, just one soul saved. A grunt's job, really-"

 

"Dad! I'm hurt! I'm no grunt!" Gabriel pouted.

 

"No, right, you're not, I just need your help getting hold of the little fella and sending him on his way. Think of this as your Mr. Miyagi moment." Chuck said, pacing the bar he had chosen to lie low in.

 

"Wait wait wait, you called me here to coach some wingless dope through his coming-of-age? Isn't that kinda _your_  job?" At that, Chuck grew increasingly nervous, but before he could interrupt Gabriel continued. "Oh, right, I forgot. You're still on a "need to know" basis with the mass of the host. As in, none of them even _need to know_ you exist. Forgot about that. Ok, so let's say I agree to go along with this, why do you even need me in the first place? You said it was a small one, just one measly soul who needs saving, how come you can't just push the little angel outta the nest and see if he takes flight?"

 

"Well..." Chuck started, clearly attempting casualty, "It's not so much the  _job_ that I'm worried about...It's the angel I've chosen to do it."

 

"Oh my You!" Gabriel exclaimed,"then pick a new grunt! Hundreds of wingless angels are probably  _dying_  for the chance to grab their feathers. Why do you need this special, and clearly defective, angel to-NO! No no no no no, Chuck, there is NO way-"

 

"Gabriel" Chuck began, stopping Gabriel from vanishing out of the hidden pub, "He's been wingless for so long! I know what you and your brothers think of him, but Castiel-"

 

"Is hopeless! Dad, I love the little guy, he's an oddball and I get that. But you did something wrong when you made him-no offense. He's just not cut out for our line of work! Trust me, Castiel will NEVER get his wings."

 

"Gabriel, we must at least  _try._ He's just as capable as you and your brothers, I think he's ready! C'mon, don't you kinda wanna help the little guy get those feathers? Think how rewarding it will feel to know that  _you_ did that! _You_ helped the most hopeless angel in the heavenly host get his wings!"

 

"Yeah, that sounds about as rewarding as the plans I had to Netflix and chill for the rest of eternity, so I'm gonna pass _-"_

 

"Gabriel-" Chuck threatened, whipping out his all-powerful voice.

 

"Fine. Fine, but why me? Why should I, of all angels, be the one you choose to help little Castiel?"

 

"Well," Chuck started, stalling for a reason, "he likes you. Maybe he'll respond better."

 

"Yeah, okay," Gabriel snorted, "I'm sure this has  _nothing_ to do with the fact that I'm the only angel who even has contact with you, let alone knows you exist-"

 

"Gabriel" Chuck cut him off, "Just listen, please. I gotta give you the deets, fast. Castiel doesn't have a lot of time to make a miracle happen, here."

 

"Okay, okay," Gabriel conceded, sitting at the empty bar before them, "So, who's the lucky victim?"

 

Chuck sighed deeply, sitting beside the archangel as he began, "Dean Winchester, mid-thirties, Caucasian, male..."

* * *

 

 

"Castiel!" 

 

For a moment, the Angel of Thursday ignored the call. It wasn't often someone actual  _wanted_   the angel around, so he'd grown used to the solitude of his own thoughts and was often times lost in them. It took until the third time his sister shouted his name that Castiel even realized he was being called. Immediately, the Angel of Thursday stood at attention before his superior, Zuriel. 

 

"Castiel, you moron, you've been summoned to the Green Room! Hurry up, now, apparently it's someone big. Archangel I heard. You really must have screwed up this time..."

 

"Me, Zuriel? But, sister, I've done nothing of interest in eons! Surely, there is a mistake-"

 

"You, Castiel!" The angel finished impatiently, "They want you! So get over there before  _I_ am blamed for your absence!" 

 

"Of course, sister, thank you." Castiel muttered as he shuffled past Zuriel. The angel pondered his summoning on his way to the Green Room. Clearly, he was receiving a punishment. Long ago he had stopped receiving tasks to complete from the host, due to their general lack of faith in him. He hadn't even seen the earth since pre-christ, in one of his many failed attempts at making a miracle to earn his wings. No, Castiel was doomed to live eternity as an angel with no wings. It didn't bother him much, he had never felt himself truly at home with his brothers and sisters. Most of his time in heaven it was as though he was simply passing the time, not trusted to aide the host from heaven and never given the chance to make miracles on earth. So he waited. Which was what made his summoning particularly confusing, as he couldn't recall doing  _anything_ for decades. 

 

Castiel stopped before the door of the Green Room, taking one final breath to steady himself before facing his inevitable penance. What lie on the other side of the Green Room door, however, surprised Castiel immensely. 

 

"Gabriel! Brother, it can't be!" Castiel declared. Gabriel was one of the original angels, and along with their Father had been missing from the host since Lucifer's fall. There had been rumor that Gabriel had been spotted on earth, but no angel believed that one so powerful as Gabriel would ever lower himself so profoundly from heaven down to earth.  

 

"Oh, but brother, it is!" Gabriel taunted, sauntering towards Castiel. "I bet you're wondering how I got here unnoticed? Well, you see Castiel, it was really a matter of  _distraction_ -"

 

"Brother," Castiel blurted, "I'm sorry to impose, but why have you summoned  _me_ _?_ Surely your arrival here is of great significance! What could you possibly need of me, the lowest of the host?"

 

"Cassie, you doubt yourself! I mean, you're not exactly right in your assumption, there, I wouldn't really call this visit upstairs  _significant,_ you know, it's kinda first-tier, grunt work, but, trust me here, bro, you are a very important piece of the puzzle!"

 

"Whatever it is you require of me, brother, I swear to assist to the best of my abilities." Castiel swore, bowing lowly before the archangel. 

 

"Stop! Aha, oh my Dad, stop that Cassie!" Gabriel said laughing as he stood Castiel back up before him. "You look like a freak doing that. Just an 'Okay' woulda worked, little bro. Actually, I don't really need your consent here. This is  _your_ mission, after all." 

 

" _My_ mission brother?"

 

"Yeah, Cassie,  _Yours."_ At the nervous look on Castiel's face, Gabriel grinned slyly. "I think you get where this is going, bro. It's time to get you your wings."

 

"But, Gabriel, that's not possible, I can't, I'm-"

 

"Can it, Castiel" Gabriel interrupted, stopping the nervous babble erupting from his brother's mouth. "It's time for you to learn a few things about a man named Dean Winchester..."

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm here, I'm queer, and I'm trying to decide if I wanna add a smut chapter on to the ending so the rating is tbd until i make up my frikken mind. pls weigh in if you feel so inclined. updates are super irregular and im eternally sorry.

"First things first, baby bro," Gabriel said as he transported himself and Castiel into a standard, if somewhat tacky, movie theatre, "You got some catching up to do. Like, at least a billion years' worth. See, there's a whole planet you've missed out on down there."

"What do you mean, brother?" Castiel questioned, following Gabriel's lead, to be seated in the middle of the empty theatre. "I am familiar with humanity. I once walked among men with you and the rest of the host, back when there was still hope I might one day receive my wings..."

Noticing Castiel's obvious disappointment in himself, Gabriel laid a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder, "Yeah, Cassie, I know. But that was eons ago, and the wingless runts have evolved, just, look-" Suddenly, the screen filled with images of the greatness of man, the Roman Empire, the Pyramids, All great and gruesome wars, The invention of the radio and telephone, thousands of moments of rebellion and invention, of leaders and culture. In less than five minutes, Castiel had seen bits and pieces of millions of humanity's greatest moments, as well as some of their greatest tragedies. "See how they grow, develop. There is such bad in this world, in their hearts-Lucifer was right about that, humans are a selfish race. But there is so much more-more hope, more intelligence, more perseverance, more empathy, and more love. So much love. It's incredible, Castiel, The world is awe-inspiring."

Castiel felt tears track their slow paths down his cheeks. It _was_ awe-inspiring. Castiel hadn't felt so strongly about something since the last time he'd looked into the terrifyingly beautiful face of this father, and that had been so, so long ago. These humans were so much more than Castiel had remembered, and he felt his hear swell with a great love for humanity.

"Awe, there's the water-works! I knew there was something special about you, Castiel. You're not defective, you just have a little too much heart." For a moment, Gabriel really looked at his brother. Yes, too much heart was always Castiel's problem. Ever since his first failed attempt at wings, a real disaster that ended in the death of his charge, it was clear that Castiel's greatest fault was his investment in his assignments. Something about that struck Gabriel, and though he couldn't place his finger on it, he knew in an instant that this quirk would help, rather than hurt, Castiel in his upcoming mission. 

"Okay, Cassie, enough chick-flick moments, here we go: Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is a human named Dean Winchester. I've brought you here so we can play some of Dean-o's greatest hits, I figure you gotta know the guy if you're gonna save his life-"

Panic gripped Castiel as all of his greatest failures flashed before his mind's eye, "S-save him? No, Gabriel, I can't! i can't save anybody, please do not place this human's life in my hands, you and I both know it will end in certain doom!"

"Relax, bro," Gabriel cooed, attempting to soothe the increasingly anxious angel beside him, "It's no biggie. Just, trust me on this, once you take a look at the guy's life you'll understand, you'll see what you need to do. I have total confidence in you!" 

Although Gabriel's excessive, and clearly false, bravado did nothing to put Castiel at ease, the angel quieted and simply looked to the screen for further instruction. 

Before his eyes, Castiel saw a scene of several young children playing in the snow by a frozen pond. They were all boys, aged from around 8 to 12 years old. 

"Ok, so, see the little trouble-maker grabbing the sled?" Castiel nodded as he watched the boy in question gather his fellow playmates near a hill leading down to a frozen pond, "That's Dean! the first part of his life is pretty boring-born to John and Mary Winchester in 1907, blah blah blah, hometown Bedford Falls, YAWN, all you need to know is this kid's had a pretty normal childhood. Loves his parents and his brother, same old same old." Castiel listened eagerly to Gabriel's blasé description of the boy, trying to retain each bit of information given, as he watched Dean take his turn sledding down the hill, stopping just before the frozen pond. "Speaking of brother, the little runt of the group there is Sammy. Keep an eye on him, this is the first big juicy moment in Dean's 12 year-old life."

Gabriel pointed to Sam just as Dean passed him the sled, indicating his turn to sled down the hill. The boy followed his brother's path, however instead of stopping before the pond as Dean had, Sam Winchester flew out into the center of the frozen pond. The thin ice below him cracked, and instantly the boy plunged down into the icy bath beneath him. Before Castiel could even react, Dean was screaming and running down the hill. Without hesitation the boy jumped into the freezing water to save his brother. After a few heart-pounding moments, Dean emerged from the pond with Sam in his arms. The other boys, who had finally reached the hole in the ice, helped Dean get Sam to solid ground. Though the boy clearly did not know the proper medical resuscitation, Dean attempted to pound the water out of Sam's lungs and eventually the younger boy was sputtering and breathing once again.  

"The boy is brave, and he cares very deeply for his younger brother." Castiel said, in awe of the selflessness displayed by one so young. 

"He does," Gabriel commented, "Possibly too much. That little incident saved Sammy's life, but left Dean permanently deaf in one ear. An easy trade off for Dean, he'd do anything for his baby bro."

Castiel absorbed this information with reverence. Though he was but 12 years old, Castiel already respected Dean Winchester immensely. 

Suddenly, the film was changing to a new scene in Dean Winchester's life. This time, the screen displayed Dean entering a small drug store. The boy was roughly the same age as the previous scene, however rather than the dead of winter the weather outside indicated the time of year was probably late spring. Dean strolled behind the counter of the drug store,putting on an apron and turning the the young girl seated at the counter in front of him. 

"Mornin' Lisa, whaddya want today?" Dean drawled, leaning over the counter to grin at her.

Lisa giggled, obviously a young school girl with a crush. "Well, Dean, what do you think I should get?"

"Aw, I dunno! Well, let's see, you liked that chocolate malt last time, and say! We got coconut now straight from Tahiti!" Dean examined, as he bent beneath the counter to retrieve said coconut flakes. 

"Tahiti! Gosh, Dean, you sure know a lot about the world" The girl gushed dreamily.

"Yeah. You know, one day I'm gonna see the whole world! I'm gonna leave this crummy town behind and see the whole world, I tell ya!" Dean gloated. There was a fire and passion in the boy's words, and it was clear to Castiel he not only believed what he said but needed it to be true. 

"That sure is exciting Dean." Lisa commented, enthralled by his attention. Castiel could see why, listening to the boy talk inspired the same passions he felt.

"I guess. So, chocolate malt with coconut?" Dean asked, but Lisa merely shook her head shyly. "Okay, okay, I'll just make you a strawberry. Sound good?" Lisa muttered a soft, 'yes,Dean' but it was lost to the boy as he bent beneath the counter to retrieve a clean glass. 

As the boy bent down, Lisa leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Is this your bad ear?" At his lack of response, Lisa continued, "Dean Winchester, you inspire me, and I swear on my life I'm gonna be something one day because of you." The girl leaned back, satisfied at her confession, as Dean continued to make the strawberry malt. 

There was an explosion of noise from the back room, followed by loud shouts from the owner, Rufus. Dean slowly passed Lisa her finished malt, and took her penny to the cash register. However, Dean's attention was captured by a paper atop the machine. Letting his curiosity get the best of him, Dean cautiously read the note. It was a telegram from the posting Rufus' son was stationed at. The note simply and without feeling announced that Rufus' son had died of influenza. 

"DEAN!" Rufus shouted from the back, "Get back here, now, boy! I got an order for you to deliver!" Lisa sent Dean a pitying look as he went, clearly aware of Rufus' foul mood from his tone. Dean crept towards the back and found Rufus among the shelves of powders and fluids he used to make his medicines. "Dean! You better have some good explanation for your mosiein' back here. Now get me that powder over there-that one in the green jar on top-and do it before the day ENDS, boy!" Dean reached for the jar, but upon noticing it's "ARSENIC" label, Dean tried to keep the jar from Rufus' reach.

"GIVE ME THE DAMN JAR, DEAN!" Rufus screamed as he grabbed the jar from Dean's grip. He added some to each pill before carefully closing them and placing them in the box labeled, "JOHNSON, BILLIE". Dean remembered Billie, he was in Dean's class at school but had been out for a month with somethin' pretty bad. Dean wasn't smart like Sammy, but he'd worked with Rufus for almost a year now and he had gotten pretty good at knowing what some of the drugs were good for. Dean remembered "ARSENIC" on a count of once he'd handed it to Rufus by mistake, and since the gruff man was usually pretty fair-tempered he'd simply laughed at Dean and explained the boy's mistake. Dean remembered, 'cause he felt like an idiot for handing Rufus a poison instead of the medicine he'd been after, but Rufus had defended Dean saying it was his own fault for putting the two in such similar jars.

Rufus pushed Dean out of the back room, muttering a quick, "Take this to the Johnson's and make it fast, boy." Dean left the store conflicted. Rufus was good at his job, Dean knew that. He'd never make this kinda mistake, only, his son had just died. And grief can do that to a person, Dean figured. But if Dean delivered those pills...Somethin' real bad would happen, he knew it, and he couldn't let that happen to Rufus just 'cause he was sad. But Dean was scared...He couldn't go back to Rufus without delivering the pills, Rufus was mad enough as it was.  Dean didn't know what his boss would do to him if he didn't just do what he was told. 

Whenever Dean had a real tough problem in school, he'd always go to his dad for help. Dean figured this was kinda like that, so decided to head down to Winchester's Building & Loan, where his dad and uncle Bobby were sure to be hard at work.

* * *

 

The Building & Loan wasn't far from Turner's Drug Store, and as Dean rushed in he could see he was right in assuming everyone would be workin' hard around the office. However, it seemed most of the commotion was centered around the small office Dean's dad kept in the store, so Dean pushed through the crowd to enter. However, before Dean could open the door, a firm hand spun him around to face a deep set grimace carved into Dean's uncle Bobby's face. 

"Boy, whatever it is you'll be needin' your daddy for, I think it's gonna have to wait." Bobby advised, pressing Dean with the importance of whatever was happening behind that door.

"Aw, please, uncle Bobby? You know I ain't one for useless hollerin', I  _really_ gotta talk to my dad!" Dean pleaded, "It's a matter of life and death!"

Bobby was torn, but at Dean's growing nervousness, he finally conceded and allowed Dean to pass with a rushed, "But make it fast!" as the boy entered his father's office.  

As Dean entered the office, the shift in air was almost palpable. It was obvious that his Father was debating enthusiastically with the man seated before him, and once Dean recognized him he instantly knew why. Fergus Crowley was the most wealthy, and most despicable, man in all of Bedford Falls. Crowley had been something of a mystery to the town, one day it was as though he had just appeared from overseas with more wealth than he knew what to do with. He soon owned many of the businesses in town, and seemed to be tryin' to buy out those he didn't already have his hands on. It was Dean's opinion that something was shady about Crowley's sudden appearance, and his massive wealth. But, then again, no one in town truly trusted Fergus Crowley. 

"I'm telling you, Winchester, this business of yours is a bloody disgrace to the good spirit of capitalism! You waste your time and money giving to those who the banks have previously denied, and I'm simply trying to save you by offering to buy you out." Crowley sneered at John, not trying to disguise his disdain for Winchester's Building & Loans. 

"And I'm telling  _you_ , Fergus, that I am still not, and will never be, interested." John stated plainly, entirely unphased by the man before him. Dean respected his dad's dedication to helping the people of Bedford falls, even if a good business man like Crowley thought John was crazy. 

"Mark my words, John Winchester, you will live to regret that decision." Crowley countered. The stupid, cocky way Crowley stated it had Dean's blood boiling, and before he really knew what he was doing the boy was shouting in the face of the most powerful man in Bedford Falls. 

"Hey! You listen here, Crowley! My dad knows what he's doin', and what he's doin' is helping people! And saving things! The things those people care about! And that makes him a much better man than you could ever be!" Dean declared, announcing his presence to the room.

Instantly, John was on Dean, pulling him away from the brit. 

"I admire your boy's passion, John" Crowley commented, "see that it doesn't get him in too much trouble, hm?" Something about the way he said it struck Dean as almost threatening, which only made him more enraged. 

"Hey, you big, dumb-"

"DEAN!" John bellowed, silencing Dean's insult, "Dean, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

This brought Dean back to his reason for seeking John's help in the first place. "Yeah, dad, but, see, that's why I'm here, I was at Rufus' and-" 

"Aw Dean, now don't tell me you're trying to cut out early again!"

"No, dad, I promise, It's just-"

"Hey, now, Dean you know how much trouble you caused old Turner last time this happened. Now, go on back before you loose that job of yours for good, you hear me?"

"Yes, but dad-"

"No buts Dean! I'll see you back home for supper, alright?"

John's tone left no room for questioning, so Dean gave in. "Alright dad." The boy said, as he exited his father's office. Dean pushed his way through the crowd around the office door, avoiding Bobby's questioning glance. Once on the streets again, Dean faced the difficult decision of what to do with Rufus' medicine. He figured there was no way around it, he'd simply have to face whatever anger his decision caused in order to save his boss.

* * *

 

Slowly Dean crept back into the back room of Turner's Drug Store. Luckily, there was no one out front who needed help, so whatever punishment Dean faced wouldn't be too embarrassing for him, he figured.

"Dean! You been gone half the day seems like, what took you so long?" Rufus barked.

"Well, Mr. Turner, there was a problem..." Dean admitted shyly.

"Out with it, boy! Don't tell me you couldn't do your damn job!" 

"Well.." Dean began, holding the box still clutched tightly in his hands up before Mr. Turner's face. 

"What in the-What is this?!" Rufus shouted, snatching the box from Dean and crowding in on the boy, "Don't tell me you didn't-Damn it Dean Winchester!" Suddenly, Rufus was smacking any part of the boy he could reach-face, shoulders, ears. "Can't you do a damn thing right! You lousy screw up!"

Pain burst from Dean's bad ear, and Dean could feel it filling with blood. Tears came, quick and hot, and try as he might Dean was too small to fend off the onslaught. "Please, please Rufus, stop, please, I know you're upset, it's ok, I know about your son but you made a mistake sir!" Rufus continued beating Dean so the boy cried out louder, "I know you didn't mean to! There's something bad in those pills! You poisoned the pills!" Dean screamed, finally getting through to Rufus. 

"What..?" Rufus stopped, looking at Dean as though he were a wild thing.

"I know it was an accident, Mr. Turner, but those pills...They ain't nothin' good, sir." Rufus took a pill from the box, broke it apart, and dipped the very tip of his little finger in before tasting the power mixture inside. Shock overtook the old worn face of Rufus Turner, and suddenly he was sobbing and clutching to Dean for dear life.

"Dean! My god, Dean! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" Rufus wept.

"I know you didn't mean it, sir, I just couldn't let Billie take those, sir, I'm sorry...I'm so sorry about your son..."

"Dean Winchester, you saved me today, boy. I can never repay you..." Rufus vowed. 

Dean didn't think what he did was worth all that. He figured just about anyone might've done it, maybe even faster than he had. He wasn't special, he just knew right from wrong was all.

* * *

 

Silently, Castiel disagreed with the boy. What he did was something quite spectacular to the angel. The boy showed such bravery and wisdom at such a young age, but more than that, Dean Winchester showed just how much he truly cared for all his fellow men. And to Castiel, that was, in fact, very special indeed. 

 


End file.
